Hitting A Nerve
by GeekyLoveLorne
Summary: A woman awakes with no memory and quickly finds herself with a tormentor that seems oddly familiar. Dasey? Maybe. Setup for the story Remember You, Love Me.


_I know everyone wants the next chapter to Get In, but I'm still working on it. Sorry. Hopefully this will do until next month. You know who she is, you can probably guess you he is; but the real question isn't if they get together but _how_. This is a setup to a story I'll eventually get around to. Please be polite but honest with your reviews and enjoy._

The woman awoke in the hospital room, the walls plain white and painfully dull. After a few seconds, she was able to find the button and called the nurse. Barely moments later, a trio of nurses ran into the room, apparently surprised to find the woman awake. Understandably confused, she was able to converse with little problem save one, she didn't recognize or even acknowledge her name.

After being look at by a team of doctors it was finally decided that she was suffering from amnesia. To her own surprise, but not that of her doctors it seemed, she was not only able to understand the terminology that they used but at times corrected them and was would list various different cases on any medical subject that they mentioned.

During the few days the woman was learned a couple things about herself. She had been in a coma for five years after a traffic accident and considering that she needed to exercise and relearn to walk. She was well educated; a passing comment hinted that she had been a doctor of some renown.

On the second day, her mother, stepfather, stepbrother, and sister arrived. While it was a pleasant experience, they quickly discovered that no matter whatever they said or did the woman didn't seem to remember anything that was mentioned and seemed unable to relate to her name.

On the fourth day, _he_ arrived. She had been enjoying the outside being pushed around by a handsome male nurse, when suddenly her wheelchair was accelerated and a voice she didn't recognize told her that she needed to live a little. Finally after screaming for him to stop, they did come to sudden stop and only the man's quick reaction had prevented her from falling out of the wheelchair. The man was good looking covered in dirt and seemed dressed more for the desert than for spring in Canada.

Their little run had brought out the doctor in charge and a after moving out of earshot of her, the man got into a heated debate with the physician, one that the man won after producing some papers from his worn jeans. The physician than informed the woman that the man was taking charge of her care and that there wasn't anything that anyone could do about it. Starting that night, the woman was moved to an unused section of the hospital with the man sleeping in one of the room's chairs.

So began the woman's nightmare. At dawn the man awoke her with loud music, smugly telling her that if she wanted go back to sleep she would have to turn off the radio, which he had placed on the furthest area of the room from her bed. He pushed her dangerously fast to her appointments and with a smirk told her that either she got used to it or started wheeling herself. When it came time to practice using the bars, the man would stop and dump the woman out of wheelchair, threatening to keep doing it until she stopped him by grabbing the bars.

Yet, at the same time, she felt like she coming out of a dream. While the first few days with the doctors and her family had been safe, reliable, and routine, the woman quickly realized that despite all that she hadn't been comfortable around the people. As chaotic as the man was, the woman found herself releasing a tension of stiffness that she hadn't known that she had been carrying with her.

Also in spite of the hell that the man put her through, there were moments of kindness. He made each tiny bit of progress on her part seem like an epic feat. If she felt cold, a blanket or his jacket quickly found its way on her shoulders. When it was clear that she was really having a hard time, he would let up, if only for a few minutes.

Something that the woman quickly realized was that she remembered more after a quick fight with the man than she did spending an hour talking with her family. When he found her reading a paper on recovered memory, he made a comment that of course she agreed with the writer, something she took as her only supporting another woman; but when she went back to reading it, she got a flash of memory of her writing it. It was during… during… during some point of happiness that she couldn't remember.

For the first three days, she had to be told that she was the person they were talking to, but after only four hours of him calling her a head case, she shouted her name at him in anger. Casey McDonald, her name was Casey McDonald. She cried with joy, she had been so happy to have finally remembered her own name.

The man had acted like he wasn't happy for her, that he didn't want to give her hug; but he finally gave in. It was quick, lasting maybe five seconds, if that; but it had felt familiar, like home. She knew the man, somewhere in the shadows of her past, they had been close; but in what way?

As Casey recovered, she tried to figure it out. The man was athletic in his early forties, around her age, with dark brown hair, only a hint of gray on his temples. While the man was friendly with the staff, almost flirty with the women, he seemed to hold himself back, never giving too much about himself away; but she was able to gleam a few things. The man was a well-known photojournalist called the Voice of Reason. He had been on location in the Middle East when he had gotten word of her awakening; and a had called in a favor to be flown nonstop to get there. He had been married, but his wife had left him some time ago, a loss he seemed to still feel.

Finally she found out he was a father. They had been arguing about her not trying hard enough when his cellphone went off, quickly stepping off to the side, the man had spoken with the person in a hushed tone; but Casey had been able to catch him saying that daddy loves his little girl and that he'll be home for her birthday. He caught her listening and ended the call. After some prodding, the man given in and showed her pictures of a four-year-old girl; there was something in the child's eye's that struck her as familiar, but she couldn't place it. Her name was Marti, named after his kid sister. When Casey asked him how she liked being an aunt, the man's demeanor changed a little and he commented that he didn't know, she died before Marti was born, a traffic accident.

Something else she noticed was that the man and her family knew each other pretty well. When they visited, Casey would sometimes catch the man and her stepfather, George, talking in hushed tones in a corner; from time to time her mom would join them. Once she had even caught her sister, Lizzie, and her stepbrother, Edwin, arguing with him in the hallway. Casey didn't hear what it was about, but she had gotten the impression that her family was trying to pressure him into doing something with her. Something that he repeatedly refused to do; only saying that he was honoring his promise and he wouldn't break it.

The final thing Casey noticed about the man was that he reminded her of a word… no, a phrase that she used to say when she was younger; one that she couldn't remember just yet. It had meant aggravating, loving, challenging, supportive, annoying, exciting, safe, dangerous, and so many more conflicting words. She tried looking it up in books and online, she asked the staff and if they had any idea what it could. Nothing. When she asked her family, Casey got the impression that she had asked this before and that her mind had refused to retain it. She even told the man of her search, he had just smirked, said he knew it would come to her, and then 'accidently' kicked her crutch out from under her.

There had a brief look of anticipation as he caught her, but it disappeared as quickly as it had appeared when she shrug off his hold and called him a jerk. That was something else that Casey noticed about the man. Whenever he did something to anger her, it seemed like he was expecting a certain reaction from her that she just wasn't giving him.

Time moved on. Wheelchair gave way to crutches, which in turn gave way to a cane. Her memory improved so much that she could recall the names of all her family and friends, list dates of importance: birthdays, anniversaries, days she graduated high school, college, and med school; but in all of that there was a black hole. A shadow that refused to come into the light. Casey knew there was a connection between the memories that refused to surface, the man, and the phrase she couldn't remember, she just didn't know what it was. She kept racking her brain to figure it out; but whatever it was her mind refused to find it.

Casey had almost given up searching for answers when six months after she had awoken, everything changed. The man snuck her out of the hospital and treated her to a day on the town. She was overwhelmed at first, but quickly finding her feet, she showed that being asleep for five years hadn't left her out of touch with the outside world. Casey found herself enjoying the shopping, carousel ride, carriage ride, eating out, and the dancing. Oh the dancing. The man had surprised her by taking ballroom dancing, which in spite of he's protests, she knew he had been having fun as well.

Then came the end of the night. As they walked out of the dance hall, her arm wrapped in his, with him carrying her cane, they saw her sister Lizzie waiting for them. The man, unsurprised by this, explained that the day had been a test to see if she was ready to be a part of the world again. That she didn't need him anymore and that he was going back home to raise his daughter and mourn the loss of his wife. They probably would never see each other again.

Casey demanded to know what the night had meant to him, that she had seen the look of enjoyment on his face, that she had felt the attraction between them, that he had stop himself from saying things he wanted to say. The man just said solemnly that he loved his wife and that wasn't going to change. Then he kissed her gently on the cheek and told her goodbye.

Casey just stared as he walked away, a feeling of loss filling her until she felt overwhelmed. He was the closest thing that she had to home and here he was walking away from her. Sure she could live with her sister until she found her feet, but Casey didn't want to. She wanted to wakeup to load music and that voice of his challenging her to face the morning. She wanted to trade insults with him, to call him a jerk while he called her a prude. Casey didn't care about the life he had before, only that he had spent most of the last six months with her; but no, he wanted to mourn a wife that he never spoke of.

Then the feeling turned to anger, that man, that jerk, he was… The phrase that she couldn't recall suddenly came pouring out of her lips in a fit of frustration. As she spoke the words the shadows in her mind parted away and she remembered everything. How they met, the rivalry that had quickly formed between them fueled by their mutual attraction. Them moving into together as they went to college, he won the bigger room with a trick coin. Her being there for him when he lost himself but revealed how he felt, that was when she had decided neurology was what she wanted to do. How they had broken the news to their family about their engagement, their parents confessed, their siblings overjoyed. The prank he pulled during the wedding, it had gotten reported on the news. It was during their honeymoon that she had written her book on amnesia. It was also around that time that she had made him promise to follow the plan should she ever become lost to him.

However with these joyful memories came a painful one as well. Marti had driven her to the hospital to get the test results. She was pregnant. They were talking about whether to connect him in field or surprise him when he came home when the truck ran the light. The car was crushed, the force folding it into half. As she fell unconscious, her eyes had rested on Marti, dead on impact. Guilt had filled her. She was dead because Casey had been too nervous to drive. If she had been calmer than Marti would still be alive. Her husband would never forgive her. She had wanted to forget.

But now, as the name of her tormentor, rival, lover, husband filled the air she knew that he hadn't blamed her, that he never held it against. In all the months that they had spent together, he had not once accused her of causing his sister's death. He had only tried to get back his wife and the mother of his daughter.

All of this occurred in the amount of time it took her to shout, "DER-EK!" For a minute, nothing happened. Then Lizzie gave a sigh of relief as the man ran back over to Casey, pulling her into a deep kiss.

Unlike the peek on the cheek or the few hugs Casey had dragged out of him, this lasted for minutes as the couple that refused to be parted by social stigma, two losses of identity, or tragedy showed that even time was no match for them. Eventually coming up for air, Mr. Venturi asked Mrs. Venturi if she wanted to meet her daughter, something she enthusiastically agreed to.

A they drove away, Casey couldn't help but think that for the first time in a long time she was finally and completely happy. That was until she asked what he would done until if she hadn't regained her memory. With a smirk, he said that he would have had to have gone back into the dating scene. This caused Casey to again scream his name and hit him on the shoulder. He just smiled and pointed to her well-worn book sitting on the dashboard: _Hitting a Nerve, the Healing Power of Annoyance._


End file.
